You Don't Know Me

‘Kevlar. Body armour. Guilty had body armour on. He was expecting to be rushed by Face. That is how he swerved them nine mils,’ says Curt smoothing down his shirt as if to show me where a person might wear body armour.

‘Yeah man. I know what Kevlar is. I mean, what? You trying to say Ki told you that Face was going to attack Guilty?’ I say not believing what I have just heard.

‘Straight up man. Time and date.’

‘Where the fuck she tell you she was getting this from?’

‘Mosque.’

‘What you talking about bruv?’

‘Mosque. She’s hooked up. She’s getting whispers. As I say, it’s all been checking out. Ask her yourself when she gets back. Shit I thought you knew. You didn’t know?’

‘No, I didn’t fucking know,’ I say.

I had no idea what the hell was going on any more. Ki is passing information to Curt to pass to Guilty about where Face is going to strike? Where the fuck was she getting this from? I couldn’t really believe it was actually from the mosque. What was I? Out of my mum yesterday?

What, she goes down there one day and suddenly she’s hooked into vine with one of the biggest gang leaders in the country? Nah, man. I didn’t buy that shit. And anyway, even if she was getting information from some next mans or woman for that in the mosque, how the fuck she know that she weren’t being stitched up by the man himself? This was classic Faceman moves. He was the information commissioner you get me. And this false feeding of intel was exactly what I would have expected of him. It would have made just the kind of story that people would be telling about him in years to come. Just like Face and the R.I.P. shirts.

‘Listen bruv, you wait here,’ I say. ‘I’ll be back.’ I look around for my keys and start heading out of the door.

‘Where you going man?’ he says puzzled, but not puzzled enough to stop eating eggs.

‘I’m going find where she’s at,’ I say and leave.

Luncheon adjournment: 13:00

33

14:10

I hope you lot had a good lunch. Mine was Gordon Ramsay obviously.

So I decided to go out and look for her. The weather was still pretty U.K. It was grey with that rain that hasn’t decided to commit to raining properly. I stuck on my hoodie and put my face to the ground and walked out of the block. I jumped on the bus and before I knew it I was there, waiting outside the bit where the women go in and out round the back. The whole of my journey there was a blank. I remembered none of it.

I am waiting wondering how this conversation’s going to go. I know more or less what I need to say to her but what I can’t do right then is imagine what she is going to say that ain’t going to make this shit less mad ting than it is. And one thing that was frying me up more than everything else was why, whatever she was doing, she was doing behind my back. You know what I mean? She could have at least told me about it.

‘Brother you can’t wait at the ladies’ entrance.’ I look round startled and see that this guy who is standing there is talking to me. But he’s smiling at me so I can tell he’s not disrespecting. I move round to the front. It’s starting to spit down so I stand just inside the entrance and wait. Through the glass in the doors I can see it again. Rows of people standing like bottles in an off-licence, all their shoulders touching. All of them moving as one, standing, kneeling, standing. Even when they are doing the ‘I’m not worthy’ pose, all of them go down and come up at the same time like there’s a signal inside of them.

When they pour out at last, a few of them nod at me. I even recognize some of them back from the last time. Then one small guy with a white skull-cap thing and cotton dress thing, with a smile that makes dimples in his face, looks like he’s coming straight at me. Just before I move out of the way he puts out his hand.

‘Assalamalaikum brother.’

‘Slamalaikum,’ I go, or something like that.

‘Imam would like a word,’ he says still smiling.

‘Who?’

‘The imam. The, erm, priest.’

‘What for? I ain’t doing nothing,’ I say making a face at him and then I turn as if to leave.

‘No, he just wants to talk. Maybe you have some questions?’ he says smiling still.

‘Questions?’

‘About Islam?’

‘Nah, man. I’m just looking for someone innit,’ I say and try and leave again.

‘I seen you here last time brother. Maybe the person you are looking for is Allah?’ he says still with that Buddha smile.

‘Trust me I ain’t looking for Allah,’ I go and turn around for real now. Then as I go to walk away I feel this gentle pressure on my arm and see that he’s holding it. I hold back my instinct to shrug him off and punch him in the face.

‘Just come in for five minutes. Ask Imam anything you like and then you can get on with the rest of your day. Just five minutes.’

The crowds had all about gone so that there was only really me and him left. The rain was coming down heavier now and I guess right then at that moment, that’s all it took. Plus it might not be a bad thing to have a look inside and see what is going on at this place where Ki has been hanging.